


Pretty Brown Eyes

by Jammit_Sammy



Category: Lucifer (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Don't really know how to explain, Except only kinda, Fluff, How Do I Tag, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Insecure Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Stiles is Pushed Out of the Pack, Sweet Lucifer, This may turn into a Chaptered Fic, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-03-01 11:24:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13293837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jammit_Sammy/pseuds/Jammit_Sammy
Summary: Stiles moved to L.A. and became a powerful magic user. He meets a nice bar owner, who actually turns out to be the Devil. Stiles makes a deal, and has some hot sex in exchange for information.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It was supposed to be mostly smut, and turned into three thousand words of plot and mush. There is still smut though. This is also my first time writing porn so...  
> In later chapters there will be scenes of Stiles/Derek and Chloe/Lucifer. They're flashbacks, but they will be major plot points. This is why those relationships are tagged. They are NOT the main focus of this story however. If my tagging bothers you, I apologize.

Stiles hates L.A. Plain and simple. The place is a hell hole and attracts the supernatural like nothing else. Makes sense though, what with all the posers and sin happening there.

Stiles asked himself everyday why he was even here, and then he would remind himself that he really didn’t have anywhere else to be. The pack had rejected him. Which, let’s be honest, hurt like a mother. No one just got over being told they were a liability and then systematically iced out of what they had come to consider a family.

He had sacrificed so much for the pack of Beacon Hills, and he didn’t understand how they could just toss him aside.

Other than pack, Stiles really had no reason to stay in Beacon Hills after high school. His dad was safe, staying out of trouble once he was retired. And now he didn’t even have pack. So he left. Besides, the town was full of death and bad memories, leaving Stiles feeling perfectly justified in cutting ties.

The abrupt end of his five-year relationship with Derek Hale sure as hell helped that decision along.

All of that, among other things, is why Stiles found himself in a loud club, waiting for the Druid who supposedly had information on some Harpies that had been wreaking havoc at a nearby tourist hotspot. Because stiles took care of that kind of thing on his own now. Three years and rigorous training in Druidic arts had made Stiles a formidable opponent, with a large collection of contacts.

  
His drink was getting a bit low, and just as he was moving to get a refill a man slid into the booth across from him.

“What is someone as beautiful as you doing all alone?”

Stiles rolled his eyes so hard, he thought they may actually fall out.  
“That works for you? Like, honestly? Because I could think of so many more pickup lines. Just as corny, but more likely to make me laugh. And if you can manage that, you might have a chance.”

Stiles wasn’t even going to honor the guy with eye contact. He had a meeting, and judging by the suit and general air of him, the man was a sleaze.

“Well, Darling, aren’t you just sweet. I like a bit of a chase.”

And, really? That just sounded rape-y.

“My dude, are you like, into that weird fake rape shit? Because, I mean, good for you, no kinkshaming from me. But no, not my thing.”

Stiles really hoped he would leave. If Stiles’ ability to profile people was correct though, he wouldn’t. Judging by the accent and the expensive Burberry the man was wearing, he was rich. Add his particular brand of allure, and he probably wasn’t used to being told no.

To Stiles’ utter shock, his thinly veiled insult caused the man to laugh, and put his hand out for a shake. “Lucifer Morningstar. You are?”

“Just about done with this conversation,” Stiles muttered, stopping to analyze.

He tapped his fingers to his chin in thought. Lucifer Morningstar. Interesting. Either he was talking to the literal devil, or this man was nuts. In all honesty, Stiles wasn’t liking the odds of it being the former over the latter. In for a penny, in for a whole fucking looney bin, Stiles figured.

“Lucifer. Like, Samael The light bringer. Torturer of souls. That Lucifer?”

Lucifer smiled wide and drawled in his syrupy sweet accent, “Why yes, guilty as charged.”

Stiles nodded, processing. “And you want to sleep with me? Why?”

The Brit shrugged. “You’re beautiful, and I have a propensity for beautiful things.”

Stiles twirled his empty tumbler, for once in his life thinking his words over before he says them. “You’re the devil, so let’s make a deal. I’m willing to bet you have quite a bit of information, or at least access to it. Am I right?”

Lucifer nodded, intrigued. Usually he was the one proposing deals and setting the terms. But this boy was nearly as interesting as The Detective, and the Devil was dying to know more.

“Well, Mr. Morningstar, I’m Stiles. And I’m in the business of supernatural extermination,” Stiles winced at his own choice of words. “Correction, I take down the bad guys.”

Steepled fingers, really? This guy was like a cartoon villain. Stiles was five seconds away from calling the guy a cook and paying for his drink before leaving.

“It so happens, Stiles, that I am also in the business of ‘taking down bad guys’. I work for the LAPD, and anything to ensure that guilty parties are punished is well within my sphere. No deal necessary if punishment is what you intend to dole out, I’ll provide the information willingly.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “No. I don’t trust that. A deal is mutually beneficial. I let you take me back to your place, and you provide me with what I need. Does that sound good?”

Lucifer had a strange expression on his face, but he nodded and leaned across the table. “Tell me Stiles, what is it you truly desire?”

“What I really want, in the whole wide world?” Stiles asked in a purposefully ditzy voice.

The Devil nodded and looked to Stiles expectantly.

“Well, Mr. Morningstar,” Stiles bit his lip. “I really, really want a pony.”

Lucifer looked miffed, and Stiles had no idea why, but he was smugly satisfied with himself.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a tab to pay before we go.”

Tall, British, and possibly psycho grabbed his arm before he got far. “No need to worry about that.”

“Mazikeen,” Lucifer shouted to the beautiful black bartender. “this young man’s drinks are on me.”

“Lucky for you I only had the one,” Stiles muttered, leaving his glass and following Lucifer.

Much to his surprise, rather than lead Stiles out of the door, Lucifer led him further into the club. There was a private elevator, hidden from the general populace that the man took Stiles into and hit the button for the top floor.

“This is your club,” Stiles breathed, finally beginning to comprehend how rich Lucifer really is, and just what he’s getting himself into.

“Yes. It is.”

Stiles just looked at Lucifer for a moment, and then started laughing. Belly ache inducing laughs. Because this was honestly so ridiculous.

His elevator companion looked completely affronted and that just made Stiles laugh harder.

“I’m so sorry, this is just… this is something out of a bad TV show.”

Lucifer didn’t look any less offended and Stiles felt kind of bad. He calmed himself and smiled softly at Lucifer, putting his hand on the guy’s chest.

“Hey, you’re still really hot and I’m still really into this.”

At that, Lucifer’s mouth tilted up a bit on the side. Stiles decided he liked that and stood on his toes to kiss the corner of that tiny smile. It was equal parts hot and frustrating that the guy had a good four inches on him.

“Well Darling, some may say I’m hot as hell.”

“Moment ruined,” Stiles groaned into Lucifer’s chest where he’d hidden his face. “That was a truly terrible pun, Oh my gosh.”

Lucifer looked at Stiles in surprise. “You didn’t say Oh My God.”

Stiles snorted, “Figured it would be weird to bring up your dad when we’re supposed to be having sex.”

Lucifer agreed with every fibre of his celestial being, and appreciated this fragile human all the more for coming to that conclusion on his own. Taking the initiative this time, Lucifer leaned down slightly to kiss Stiles’ plush pink lips and across his jaw, up to his ear.

“I want you on your knees,” he whispered, nipping the sensitive flesh of Stiles’ ear lobe.

“Yeah? That can be arranged.”

The elevator opened just then, and Stiles dragged Lucifer into the penthouse. Before he could get far though, he looked around in awe.

“This is beautiful,” Stiles whispered.

Lucifer watched on as the boy dragged his hand over the marble bar, all the way until it’s end, before immediately moving on to the walls. Stiles’ short attention span had completely moved from sex into admiring Lucifer’s home, and the Devil couldn’t even be upset. The pale boy, with his mole dotted skin and gin-and-tonic eyes, looked intrinsically right, standing in Lucifer’s space. His personality and spark filled the whole space and made it feel warm. Lucifer didn’t even feel this way with the detective, and it was wholly unsettling, as he had just met the boy.

“How old are you, Stiles?” Lucifer asked abruptly, startling Stiles out of his little bubble.

“Twenty-One as of a week ago.”

Nodding, Lucifer walked up to the boy, pressing against his back. There was no way that Stiles couldn’t feel Lucifer’s erection, which hadn’t flagged at all during their lapse of sexual activity.  
Stiles turned his head to grin coyly at Lucifer and run a hand up into his hair.

“You know,” Stiles bit into his spit-slick bottom lip. “I think someone said something about me on my knees?”

Lucifer gave a husky, gravely kind of laugh before leading Stiles into his room. A room that was furnished with plush rugs for occasions such as these. But before anything started, he wanted that boy naked. Stiles seemed to know what Lucifer was thinking, because he stripped off his clothes in record time.

In awe of the beautiful, toned body before him, Lucifer became lost in thought. He didn’t know what about this boy was so appealing to him. While he was plenty pretty, Lucifer leant more towards the striking beauties that knew exactly who he was and exactly how much money he had. Stiles was none of those things, yet Lucifer couldn’t draw his eyes away from his pale, mole dotted skin and his beautiful thighs.

The downside of staring for so long, was that Stiles was apparently insecure. That was unfathomable to Lucifer, because the boy was gorgeous, but humans were strange.

Sensing the boy’s unease, and watching that little minx turn into a shy, fidgeting container of insecurity, Lucifer changed his plan.

“As much as I’d love to see those beautiful lips put to work, I’d much rather do something else. Come here, Darling.”

Stiles walked towards him, unsure. Lucifer brought the naked boy into his clothed lap, already deciding that he would probably need to buy a new suit after this. He looked Stiles in the eye and pet the side of his face.

“You are truly alluring. I don’t think you have a clue how utterly irresistible you are,” Lucifer was smiling softly at Stiles and continuing to stroke his face. Over brow bones and the bridge of his nose. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you tonight. And then you surprised me with your wit.”

Stiles shuddered under Lucifer’s ministrations, growing hard again. Stiles couldn’t believe he was about to have sex with the actual devil, but he couldn’t be assed about it.

Lucifer had moved to alternately pulling on and gliding his thumbs over Stiles’ nipples. This had Stiles keening and arching into Lucifer’s touch, which the Devil seemed to appreciate.

Stiles leaned in for a kiss, desperate for as much contact between the two of them as possible.

Stiles was touch starved, he could admit that. Lucifer seemed perfectly willing to touch him though, and Stiles was going to take advantage.

Going by the amount of pre-cum that was smeared into Lucifer’s shirt and pants, he figured the boy was perfectly on edge. He flipped Stiles so that he was sprawled out on his back, and stood to quickly disrobe himself. He did not want to be away too long from the pale beauty he had spread out so readily.

Instead of going up to kiss him, though, like Sties may have expected, Lucifer slunk to the foot of the bed and kissed the tip of Stiles’ leaking erection. This elicited a delicious choked off gasp from the pale human, and Lucifer smiled. He took the head into his mouth, applying a sporadic suction that had Stiles making little ‘uhn uhn uhn’ noises and giving aborted thrusts of his hips. Lucifer took Stiles down to the root, tracing his tongue down the vein on the underside as he went down, and swallowed around the insistent press at the back of his throat.

Above, a constant stream of breathless noises fell from Stiles’ lips as he neared orgasm. Pulling off, Lucifer nipped the crease of Stiles’ thigh, moving higher to suck a hickey into Stiles’ hipbone. He resolutely did not think about the fact that he had never given a fling a hickey before as he swallowed Stiles all the way down again. The unexpected and sudden stimuli caused Stiles, who was already on edge, to cum with a high pitched whine as his body bowed.

Lucifer swallowed it all, then pulled off smiling smugly. He reached for the lube, slicking up his fingers and moving to kiss Stiles. Their tongues twined until Stiles had to turn because he was out of breath.

“You did so well, Darling.”

Lucifer catalogued how Stiles’ eyes fluttered at the praise, and his hips stuttered.

“Now that you’re nice and relaxed, I’m going to open you up. How does that sound?”

Stiles just nodded, eyes glazed and a little far away. Lucifer kissed a trail down his body, slowly inserting a finger into the loosened ring of muscle, wriggling it gently in order to create an easier glide. Stiles sighed happily, his inner walls squeezing around Lucifer’s finger, which was now in to the second knuckle.

He stroked Stiles’ side with his other hand and whispered, “You’re doing perfect,” as he added a second finger, just as slowly as the first.

Stiles took it, bearing down on Lucifer’s fingers as he began to scissor his them in small increments. He increased his movements as the walls around his digits loosened, and soaked up the whining keens Stiles was providing in return.

By the time he was up to a fourth finger, Stiles was hard and begging Lucifer to, “Just put it in me, dammit. I need it so bad.”

Lucifer complied, pulling a condom on and lubing up his hard cock.

“How would you like it darling?”

“Like this,” Stiles panted. “Want to see you.”

Lucifer had hoped that was what the human would say, nodding as he guided the head of his cock to that starburst entrance. He pushed in slowly, feeling the almost reluctant give of that tense little muscle, until the head popped in.

Lucifer continued to go slowly, listening closely for any signs of discomfort, until he bottomed out.

Once he did, Stiles let a punched out breath escape, muscles contracting wildly around Lucifer’s shaft. Stilling his hips, Lucifer rubbed over Stiles’ tight abdominals while leaning in for a slow, sweet kiss. Stiles tasted of rock candy and salt water taffy, with a hint of cinnamon, and Lucifer found himself becoming addicted.

When the clench of muscles loosened a bit, and Stiles relaxed, Lucifer began with incremental little thrusts of his hips that barely moved him in or out.

As Stiles became more vocal, Lucifer pulled out more and set a faster pace. Eventually they found a rhythm, Lucifer pulling halfway out before slamming back in, pace somewhere just over rabbit fast and just under insane. Lucifer would be worried about the bruises that he was definitely going to leave, but Stiles loved it. He was keening out requests of more and harder, chanting Lucifer’s name, and moaning with abandon. The boy was loud, Lucifer might even classify him as a screamer. And for the first time, Lucifer enjoyed how loud his partner was, because it was genuine instead of forced.

Usually, it was too much like porn for him, when his partners got loud. But Stiles was gone on his dick, so genuinely lost in the pleasure that he could not be bothered to modulate his volume.

When Stiles hit that precipice, clenching hard around Lucifer, he called out “Samael!”

That name, a name that no one had called him in a long time. At least, not with that amount of reverence.

That name coupled with the clenching walls of the beautiful boy beneath him pushed Lucifer over the edge, cumming hard into the condom as he lost control. His wings, which he had still not managed to permanently remove, shot from his back.

Lucifer had a moment of sheer panic as he waited for the freak-out, but Stiles just reached out to stroke them, which caused an after shock to run through Lucifer’s body.

“These are pretty,” Stiles slurred, hand falling back to his side. “I wanna cuddle them. And you.”

Lucifer smiled fondly as he pulled out and discarded the condom. He didn’t bother to put his wings away, since Stiles seemed to enjoy them.

At this point, Lucifer would usually politely offer his bedfellows a drink and a cab home. Stiles though, was already mostly asleep. And he just looked so beautifully radiant, so perfect curled up there in Lucifer’s bed.

Instead of kicking him out, like Lucifer really knew he should, Lucifer just pulled back the blankets. He pressed up against the back of Stiles, as the big spoon, before wrapping his arms and then wings around the boy. As he tangled their legs, thinking the silent Stiles was already asleep, a long-fingered hand stroked softly over a wing.

“I hope you have someone to keep you company in this big ol’ penthouse. And flings don’t count. It’s so lonely without someone. Trust me, I know,” Stiles said quietly, words becoming more incomprehensible as he slowly drifted into sleep.

Lucifer’s heart clenched, because he didn’t have someone to keep him company. Not really. And He wanted that. He wanted that with this lonely witch boy, who had essentially fallen into his lap.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stiles wakes up in Lucifer's bed and Lucifer gets a call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short. I plan to get on a posting schedule of Monday and Friday. That will start next week.
> 
> I now have a wonderful beta, who has now edited this chapter, adonis3. You guys should love them. They're a godsend

Stiles woke to a hand on the back of his lower left thigh. Pianists fingers danced a pattern there. A familiar pattern of swirls and sharp lines.

No longer groggy, but fully awake, Stiles twisted hard and fell out of the bed. Never before had his glamour fallen like this.

All of Stiles' tattoos, ones Scott had told him were ugly on several occasions, were visible and glaringly obvious in the light of Lucifer's bedroom.

  
"Very interesting," Lucifer sounded thoughtful. "I see Celtic, Druidic, Wiccan, and some quite obscure symbols. I haven't seen that lovely one on your back since the dark ages."

  
Stiles rubbed a hand over his face. His magic was powerful. He knew it, the things he fought knew it, and apparently now Lucifer knew it.

  
"So. What are we going to do?" Stiles was resigned to being grilled at the very least.  
"We get you your information, and some breakfast."

  
Lucifer stood, completely comfortable in his nudity, and strode towards the bar. He poured himself two fingers of Scotch, and went to sip at it. Unfortunately for him, Stiles was quick getting across the room to steal the glass.

  
"It's nine in the morning," was all he said before dumping the alcohol into a nearby plant.

  
Lucifer raised an eyebrow at Stiles, but didn't move to get another drink. Stiles counted that as a win.

  
The devil pulled a cell phone out of, seemeingly, thin air and dialed a number. "Hello Mazikeen. Yes I know it's early. Yes tell the detective I said hello."

  
There was a pause, where Lucifer huffed.  
"It does so happen to be about that boy from last night. He needs information on..." Lucifer looked at him expectantly.

  
"Harpies," Stiles supplied.

  
"Harpies," Lucifer repeated to Mazikeen on the other line.

  
He listened for a few more moments, and then hung up. Soon after, though, he received another call.

  
"Detective!" He answered with enthusiasm. "What can I do for you?"

  
Stiles figured he should leave Lucifer to his conversation, so he went to put his clothes back on. His tattoos were a sore spot, most of them being functional rather than pretty. It was an argument he'd had with Derek often. Every time he added a new one actually.

  
Stiles shook himself of the memories, pulling his flannel on to complete his usual layers. The only difference was that Stiles had long since thrown gender roles out of the window, along with his faith in Derek, and was wearing a crop top with the Ramones logo. By the time he was done dressing, Lucifer was off of the phone and dressing himself.

  
"That was Detective Chloe Decker with the L.A.P.D. There've been drowning victims found. It might be connected to what you're looking into."

  
Lucifer straightened his cufflinks and looked up at Stiles. "I hope you're up for a little field trip."

  
Stiles laughed, delighted. "I know detective Decker quite well. I'm technically a Liaison for the L.A.P.D and the powerful Lang family."

  
"Wonderful," Lucifer smiled. "You'll fit in quite nicely."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer takes Stiles on a case

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know absolutely nothing about the American Justice system or police/detectives. Sorry. Also, I'm obviously doing my own twist on different lore.

Stiles walked into the precinct right behind Lucifer, immediately being greeted by Chloe and Dan. The spark quickly walked over to the detective, perfectly balanced in his six inch heels, hugging her tight.

“It’s been eight years!” Stiles hyperbolized.

Chloe laughed, smiling warmly at Stiles.

“Trixie misses you. You’ll have to join us for dinner sometime.”

Stiles nodded enthusiastically before being lifted into a bone crushing hug.

“Dan,” Stiles wheezed, smiling brightly.

He was placed back on his feet, facing the cause of the slight ache in his ribs.

“Looking good, as always, Mischief,” Dan commented, looking over Stiles’ outfit.

He had paired a pair of black skinny jeans with a baby pink crop top and matching pumps, topped off with a grey flannel.

Stiles flushed happily, like he always does when someone compliments him, and watched Dan walk away to do his detective business.

Stiles was a little teary at the fact that Dan took time out of his day to compliment Stiles. The both of them had gotten drunk one night, spilling their guts to one another. Since then, he and Dan had been close, the older man even using the nickname Stiles’ mother used to call him.

With a large smile, Stiles turned to a bemused looking Lucifer.

“I had no idea you were all so close.”

Chloe looked at Lucifer like she hadn’t seen him there before.

“Stiles is our liaison for the Lang family and the LAPD.”

The Langs, Lucifer happened to know, were a family of dragons. Their nature made them extremely successful in the crime world, but they were also willing to work with the police, and never dealt in drugs. Only valuable artifacts.

The detective looked between the two of them, a look crossing her face before she donned a professional mask.

“Lucifer, I called you in on the case but Stiles-”

Stiles raised a hand, effectively cutting her off. “I spoke with the chief, I’m now an official consultant as well.”

Rubbing a hand down her face, Chloe sighed.

“Okay, well we’ve had four bodies in as many weeks. All drowned, all under suspicion of serious crimes.”

"Good!” Lucifer exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. “It seems someone is doling out punishments. Why should we stop the good work?”

A snort cut through the ensuing silence.

“Well yeah, except whoever is doing this is judge, jury, and executioner. No one should have that much power.” Stiles got a faraway look on his face, one Chloe had noticed meant Stiles was thinking of something not entirely pleasant.

She was glad he was here though. He would be a nice counterpoint to Lucifer’s nonsense.

              **********

The crime scene was fairly plain, considering the things that all three of them had seen. Chloe in her line of work, Stiles with his questionable teenage years, and Lucifer as the literal devil.

They had gotten a quick rundown of the case facts on the way to the secluded spot in the woods.

From what they had been told, Stiles already had a working theory of what was going on. Few people knew, but just like all other creatures, the ones of lore adapted to modern times. So, while there was some truth to be found in old legends, they were hardly ever completely accurate.

For example, this kelpie, and Stiles was certain that is what their culprit was, was luring people that it deemed unworthy back to its pond before drowning them. They did all of this as a human, rather than the classic horse form that most legends described. Stiles only wished they had been more careful. If the police didn’t get involved, Stiles could usually talk the creature of the week into knocking it off, or moving somewhere else.

Now, though, the police were involved. Stiles knew this would be another cold case for the LAPD, and that made him cringe internally. Cold cases due to the supernatural are what had nearly lost his dad his job, all those years ago.

Stiles tuned back in just in time to hear Chloe, “- and they left footprints, but we’ve yet to find any DNA evidence. They’re simultaneously careless and extremely cautious.”

Lucifer was poking around, sniffing the air like a bloodhound, and that made Stiles laugh. It was obvious the devil was just going for theatrics at this point, he couldn’t actually smell anything.

Stiles had to remove his shoes, the soft soil swallowing his heels and making it impossible to walk.

They looked around for a while, talking to the crew collecting evidence from the most recent drowning, and Stiles got a glimpse of the body. It was bloated, purple, the face almost unrecognizable and if it had been just two years earlier, Stiles might have thrown up. Now though, he was nearly desensitized to the death and destruction that the supernatural brings.

The three of them left that day, Chloe no closer to finding the culprit, and Stiles bone tired. Lucifer seemed to be the only one in any kind of good mood.

Lucifer drove Stiles back to Lux, leading him back inside to have a drink. The club was closed, the only people in there being Stiles, Lucifer, and the beautiful black bartender from last night. Mazikeen, Stiles thought her name was.

"So Stiles, I don’t usually do this, but I had Mazikeen do some research on you.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, waiting for what Lucifer was going to say.

“Your pack is quite powerful,” was said nonchalantly, as if it were not a huge deal.

Stiles growled low in his throat, proving that at one point he had run with wolves. “Not my pack.”

“Really?” Lucifer looked intrigued. “They still claim you as pack.”

Stiles snorted. “Yes, now that I’ve made a name for myself, I’m sure they want me back. But no, the Hale-McCall pack is not mine. My pack is three werewolves and a banshee. None of whom live in the U.S. of A.”

Mazikeen snorted from her place behind the bar. “Oh I like this one Lucifer. Let’s keep him.”

Stiles smiled brightly at the bartender and asked, blunt as a dull pencil, “And you’re a demon, right? Probably the head demon, if my powers of deduction are up to snuff.”

Mazikeen smiled right back, more predatory and razor sharp with intent. “Oh yes, I like you a lot.”

“He’s taken, Mazikeen!” Lucifer scolded.

“By who?” Stiles looked at the devil, incredulous.

“By me,” Lucifer said, and threw Stiles over his shoulder, carrying him to the elevator.

Sent into hysterical laughter, Stiles realized he was dating the literal devil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you hadn't guessed, Stiles' pack is Jackson, Ethan, Isaac, and Lydia. In this Isaac went to France after all the deaths, and Lydia is in a happy, healthy poly relationship with Ethan and Jackson in England. V style polyamory, rather than triangle.
> 
> Edit: Since this is a plausible end to my story, even though it’s not the end I originally had in mind, I will not be deleting it or marking as discontinued.


	4. Important Notice

To everyone who has been following this story, I'm sorry. Y'all have been so great, and I honestly love you so much. I've just lost all motivation to write this, and my outline was lost when my computer crashed. 

Maybe, I'll come back to this. But for now, I'm going to say goodbye. I'm writing a new fic, in a different fandom. But if you like Marvel, and you like Stuckony, keep an eye out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What I might have done, and how I might come back to finish it maybe. But probably not.

This story really just isn't a passion for me any longer. I'm so tired of the Teen Wolf fandom, honestly. I just don't want to deal with the antis and the queer baiting and the truly horrible writing of the show's creator. Also, I lost the outline and had already felt a decline in motivation (due to serious health issues and a series of hospital stays) to write this. I may some day come back to it, but I doubt it. It was originally only supposed to be the first chapter, about 3k words of some soft smut. And the longer I was writing this and thinking on it, the more I felt I should have just left it at that. Since this is a plausible end to my story, even though it’s not the end I originally had in mind, I will not be deleting it or marking as discontinued. 

Considering Liam was in the pack that so readily cast Stiles aside, I doubt Stiles would be happy to welcome them with open arms. He had to grow up fast in the show (arguably) and being shoved out of his pack and into a world where he had magic and was a target because of that, with no backup was the catalyst for him developing a healthy dose of pettiness (well deserved) and cynicism.  
Stiles, due to experience and his own beliefs about free-will and hierarchy, would not want to accept the role of alpha. At all. He would probably gladly offer the opportunity of pack, but it would be a democracy. An alphaless pack that functioned based on the consensus and ideas of the group. Basically the antithesis of Derek's pack.

Stiles has a lot of traumas and so do Isaac and Jackson. It's not their job to fix eachother, though they could be there to help along the way. Due to their traumas, none of them would probably even want an alpha. Jackson was essentially abandoned by his alpha, once they found out he was a kanima. And while Jackson was a jerk, he was going through a traumatizing transformation by himself (mostly without his knowledge) and being controlled by assholes. If Derek had been around to help the poor boy, things probably would have gone differently. Isaac was turned just so Derek could have an army, and then the other two who were turned with him, that he was close to, were killed and Derek went AWOL. Like his remaining pack member wasn't just as hurt and scared.

As far as Liam goes, he basically puppy worshipped Scott, and I do not for one second believe he would follow Stiles over Scott. It's unrealistic, that's just how the show set it up. And let's be real, Scott acted like if you got your hands dirty, you were a terrible person. And Stiles has had to get his hands dirty. It's life. But Mr. High And Mighty wouldn't understand, acknowledge, or accept that. By proxy, Liam would not understand, acknowledge, or accept that Stiles was just doing what had to be done to keep people safe. Liam would be just as appalled and potentially disgusted, definitely disappointed, with Stiles as Scott.

To end my long as fuck rant, this was never going to be like the cutesie, happy ending for everyone fics. The whole point, in my mind, was to show that escape from abusive and toxic relationships is possible. And you don't have to go back to them just because they say they've "changed" never once was Stiles going to reconcile with his old pack in beacon hills, because there is just too much trauma and bad blood. Just because they need him now, doesn't mean he wants them. Because they didn't want him, when he needed them.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IF YA WANNA SEE MORE FROM THIS VERSE OR WANT SOMETHING ELSE, COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone who wants me to write them something, Commissions are Open


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